


Alité (Perfectworldshipping Sickfic)

by anamnesisapproaches



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Kisses, Kissu, M/M, Overworking, Sickfic, aaaaaaaaa theyre so cuteeeee, bickering of sorts, flu season, gussy gets sick, ill just stop tagging i guess, kiss, lyssy comforts him, overscheduling, wow okay i dont know what to tag this as now do i
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:35:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25605940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anamnesisapproaches/pseuds/anamnesisapproaches
Summary: Spring is a beautiful time of the year for new beginnings.  New flora, new fauna...  And new beginnings for pokemon trainers to get their first pokemon.However, managing a boatload of kids all the time is bound to bring some kind of illness.  Lo and behold--  our beloved Sycamore gets sick from it all.
Relationships: Fleur-de-lis | Lysandre/Platane-hakase | Professor Augustine Sycamore
Kudos: 22





	Alité (Perfectworldshipping Sickfic)

**Author's Note:**

> I checked in with a friend who takes french and they greenlit me for the french 
> 
> So shoutout to them. I'd give an AO3 link to them but they dont have an AO3...

The outside was sunny, and the world sprung into life. Winter was over, bringing a renaissance of newborn energy, which buzzed as brightly as a hive full of Combee. With the spring, there came many different things. Recently hatched Fletchling caused small fires in the forests, where water Pokémon regulated the flames. And in the fields, furfrou of all breeds wildly frolicked around. With the spring, there came new greenery, grasses sprouting up from the rich soil. There came flowers, and fairy Pokémon to live amongst them. Everything was perfect, in harmony with one another. 

Except for one small detail. 

With the spring came a blooming population of both humans and Pokémon. With the spring, crowded areas come. With the spring, come new travelers. And, most of all, new diseases. Flu’s reign upon the world leeched it’s way out of winter, worming into the beginning of the new season to seek prey. For someone who had made every effort to not get sick for the sake of keeping new trainers healthy, Sycamore had done a pretty good job. But having to meet dozens of people a day, and especially when it comes to children, there is bound to be a bug somewhere amidst the crowd.

Sycamore squinted at the ceiling, feeling a hot sensation over his entire body. Something felt wrong, and was beyond horrified to think that he may have gotten the Flu right at the end of its season. The symptoms told a sickening truth. There was a burning ache embedded in each joint, and his muscles ripped with pain when they were used. His skin was an odd red hue, much different from his normal complexion. It wasn’t long before he began to regret never buying tissues, staying huddled up in his room and trying his best to understand what to do. He had to use toilet paper to wipe his nose, causing less than pleasant irritations. He had felt a slight scratch in his throat for the past few days prior, but having not gotten his shot due to severe over-scheduling, the man should have seen this coming from a hundred miles away. 

Thank Arceus it wasn’t a weekday. Maybe he could manage to slip by and make a quick recovery in time for the work week, and continue to give pokemon to the children so they may begin their journeys. There were only a few left.

But that’s when it hit him. Sycamore didn’t have to meet up with any children right now, but he did have to get it together for Lysandre. They met in his house-lab every weekend, and Lysandre would always stay for the night. They would typically watch a movie, or one of them would cook, though Lysandre wasn’t the best of cooks. Lysandre often just hired someone else to cook at his place, so the concept of making food had been foreign to him for a long while until the professor of his affections had created a dish for him. It was eggs, of course, Sycamore having taken many culinary lessons in the past. He knew how to cook such a temperamental thing quite well.

Snapping back into reality, Sycamore felt a headache begin to throb, and a sudden loud noise from battles outside did little to help. That’s when he realized how tough it was to really even move too much too fast.

“Fuck…” a word very rarely spoken by Sycamore, no matter the situation. Truly, one couldn’t blame him, for this was a rather tight spot. Ignoring any pains which wracked his body, the scrawny professor tried his best to reach the stove. However with the intense wobbling of his legs, the man wasn’t able to get very far, ending up on the floor after sliding down the smooth grey wall he leaned upon. He sat in that same place for ages, never moving, and especially not after he heard a faint knock from the door. Even though it sounded muffled, the noise scorched his ears. He didn’t even realize that the person knocking was Lysandre, of all people. 

How did he not even entirely notice how fast he was slipping into this sickness..?

“Augustine, what are you doing?” Was what he could manage to hear. There were some softer comments that the crippled man didn’t notice, but did acknowledge the moving of Lysandre’s mouth. Before he knew it, his body was being lifted off the ground. 

“You’re really warm...” Lysandre muttered the obvious, visibly irritated. He practically pranced over to Sycamore's bedroom, carefully placing the man in bed. Sometimes the comfort of another’s presence was all one needed, and this was no exception, Sycamore burying his overheated face in his friend’s wide muscular shoulders. He could feel the man shift underneath his head, able to hear Lysandre’s heartbeat from the artery in his arm. Lysandre held back from crushing the smaller of the two in his large arms while trapping him in an embrace. 

“Lysssssss….” Sycamore mumbled, eyes sliding closed. It took a moment before the man in question replied. A sweetly warm breeze trailed by the windows, making Sycamore retreat into the wrinkled collar of his shirt. Of course, the man wasn’t expecting to arrive and see this, but he wasn’t complaining. How could he complain when someone he loves is feeling so horrible at the current moment? This was just a day that would result in Lysandre playing caretaker for a while until the professor was back to his normal self. 

Perhaps that would become a few days, now that he thinks of it.

“Yes, my dear?” He asked softly, head tilting rather curiously. Sycamore made some rather strange movements with his hands, fidgeting as if he was trying to accent his words, though spoke none, struggling to coordinate any thoughts at all. Lysandre sighed, taking one of Sycamore’s hands, the feeling of the professor’s skin, soft as silk met up against Lysandre’s moderately scuffled ones, like how the deep azure ocean caresses the rough crags of the coast. Sycamore stopped trying to fidget altogether, settling down into Lysandre’s warmth. 

“Now… You’d like some tea, right?” Lysandre asked a yes or no question, of which Sycamore nodded fervently. “That’s good… I bought some tea for you, so I’ll make that.. It’s Combee Honey and Eldegoss seed tea, is that alright?” When he earned another nod from his beloved, Lysandre couldn’t help but grin, happy that Sycamore was making a small smile, despite being completely delirious. Having gotten up, the flaming man started the kettle, pacing impatiently in wait for the water to boil. The loud whistle somehow grabbed him and took the man by surprise, but he took the kettle off the heat before the loud shriek of noise would make Sycamore’s assumed headache. Lysandre put the water inside of a marvelous wrought iron teapot, with silver and gold decorating it’s handle and body, showing off intricate scenes about the Legendary Pokémon Yveltal. The liquid inside slowly became a soft flaxen yellow hue as the essence from the tea spread into the burning water. He let it cool just enough before bringing it back to Sycamore. 

“Gussy, I got you the tea…”

It didn’t matter, though. The ill person was fast asleep in bed, passed out like a noibat during the day. His swooping hair obscured the side of his face that he laid on. It’s raven black sheen reflected little light, and brought a smile to Lysandre’s normally blank or focused expression. Settling down on a chair he silently moved to the side of the bed, Lysandre placed his head right beside the sleeping professor’s, closing his eyes to listen, hearing the gentle heave of the other’s breath ebb and flow. He couldn’t break this slumber, not for anything. The man looked so soothed, finally being able to rest after such stressful times. The poor thing overworked himself.

Again.

“We’ll have tea later, then…”

Lysandre seemed to feel himself fall asleep, slowly but surely.

By the time Sycamore woke, he had little sense of time. Rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes, Augustine began to look around the room. It was oddly clean and tidy, quite unlike his usual room’s appearance. Everything was in order, clothes folded neatly, nothing on the floor, no notes scattered around everywhere, no random bits of pokeballs hiding in odd places. After a moment, his mind finally adjusted to his consciousness, now noticing the unusually tall man at his desk, writing down some things. 

“Mnn…”

The tall man, his silken smooth hair tied back in a loose messy ponytail looked over.

“You’re awake…”

“Mhm… What, was I in a coma for a thousand years or something…?” Sycamore mumbled, still having a headache despite the long rest he had. The ginger laughed lightly with a caring smile.  
“No. You’ve been sleeping the entire night, and most of the day, is all. Can you move well?”

“Not really…” Sycamore proceeded to break into a coughing fit, Lysandre grimacing at his beloved’s weakened state.

“Here.”

Lysandre called out his Pyroar from it’s pokeball, and tenderly asked it to reheat the tea. The large lion pokemon purred, nuzzling the teapot warmly, letting it heat up from it’s own bodily warmth. Once the tea was ready, he reached down, and petted right atop it’s head, picking up the teapot, pouring the tea into two cups, one for himself, and the other for Sycamore. He would need an immune boost for being so close to Sycamore for so long, him being this sick.

“Sit up a little…” Without any hesitation, the taller swooped in to help him sit up before placing the cup in his lap. The tea was just the right temperature, not too hot so that it would burn, but still piping hot which curbed the bitter taste which came from medicinal tea. “There we go…”

“Ahh… Thank you, Lyssy…”

“It really is no problem, babe. What, was I supposed to abandon you here after you fell asleep with the flu?” The sweet, tall man reached out to press a hand to Sycamore’s forehead. Surely enough, he was burning up.

“Hm. Good point.” He admitted that, and shrugged a little, only drinking half his cup before attempting to get up. At first Lysandre was a bit confused as to what he was attempting to do, before realizing he was going to stand up. He could hear the amount of effort it took for him to move, and firmly placed a hand on his chest. 

“No no, you’re staying here.” He stood up, not allowing the professor to even attempt to start his work again. “Rest, love.”

“Lyssy, please, there are children who need their new pokemon. I need to give them their first pokemon, that’s the only way they’ll be able to begin their journey with the pokedexes…” Sycamore felt like all his energy was being eaten up by the mere stress of having such a crucial job. “And so many other professors need me to reply to their messages… And I need to conduct my own research, Lysandre, I need to get up…”

“No… Relax, okay? You can’t work in this condition. And besides, it isn’t even monday yet, you can still rest…” He wasn’t the best at soothing a man, stressed with a deadline that everyone despised, of which was the beginning of the week. “I’ll ask your aides to fill in for you. We have you covered, alright?”

“What…? You mean Dexio and Sina…?”

“Yes, them. They really are sweet.” Lysandre commented, the two aides being nice people in their own respects. Sycamore disappointedly pouted for a brief moment, knowing that if Lysandre had already asked for their time, which he likely had, there was little use fighting it. “They’ll fill in for you. Now, don’t let their time be a waste, and get some more rest, and drink your tea. I’ll go get some medicine for you, alright?”

“You’re so good to me, babe…”

“I do my best, sweetheart.”

With that, the ginger sauntered off with a slight smile at his successful attempt to keep Augustine in bed for the time being. He swiveled around a few corners, gracefully and silently walking with purpose, making his way to the medicine cabinet. Inside, there were a few small bottles, most of them empty, one singular one with a pill that would help fight the flu, if even a little. He would need to get more if Sycamore took one. Grasping the small pill bottle with his large hands, he got back up to fetch a few biscuits for Sycamore to try and eat. He needed some food, he hadn’t even had dinner last night.

A few assistants in the lab scurried about, almost freezing in the imposing presence of Lysandre. They were all still getting used to such a crucially famous person lurking around in the lab. He couldn’t entirely blame them. After all, he was unusually tall, and his fame was more extensive than even Sycamore’s. It must be somewhat spooky.

It would take a bit longer for all of the assistants to adjust, he assumed.

Re-entering the bedroom, Lysandre knocked before moving inside, Sycamore spacing out just a little bit, not even noticing his loved one sit next to him. The taller reached out, and gently placed a hand on the other’s bare left shoulder. Augustine’s head turned. A smaller, daintier hand pulling up the side of his mostly unbuttoned dress shirt that had fallen off his shoulder. The smaller hand gently laced with the other’s. 

Despite having difficulty in his breathing, the corners of Sycamore’s mouth curled up, his lips thinly parted, slowing the pearly glint of his teeth underneath. Such a smile was best admired, a weary expression, but a joyous one nonetheless. Such moments made life on such a planet worth the time.

Lysandre placed a small, fleeting kiss on those inviting lips of his, before pulling back, and motioning to the bottle, Sycamore understanding what he was intending to say. Without too much hesitation, the raven-haired man reached for his cup of tea, holding out his other hand for one of the pills. Once given one, he took it with some tea. Heaving a sigh, the ill man leaned back, and closed his eyes. Lysandre discreetly wrapped the biscuits he brought in with a stark white napkin which was on the bedside table, knowing he likely didn't want to eat at that moment.

“Are you going to sleep…?”

“Yeah. Just a little bit.” Sycamore slowly shifted himself to a more comfortable position, his spine and neck relaxing painfully. Even the simple actions of moving and talking drained him. Lysandre squeezed his hand before letting it go to let him rest without disruption. Leaving with a parting kiss, he turned to walk out the door.

“Night, Lyssy…” The loopy professor mumbled, despite it being midday. With that, Lysandre heaved himself up, slipping out the door ever so silently.

“Fais de beaux rêves...”


End file.
